The girl started violently, and blushed to the dark hair lying in damp rings on her forehead. She quickly pulled her brown sunbonnet into place, and stared at Happie without speaking, like a frightened rabbit cowering beside the fence.
"I'm Happie Scollard, and I live—I'm living this summer—on the next farm, the one that used to be Bittenbenders'," Happie continued. "I've been anxious to know you; we're so near the same age, and such close neighbors."
She paused for the reply which did not come, and then, for lack of it, took up the conversation again.
"It's lovely here; those mountains are glorious. I was so lonely and homesick at first I did not know how to bear it, but I'm getting happier every day. It's a beautiful place, Crestville, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," returned Gretta.
"Have you always lived here?" asked Happie.
"Yes, I have," replied Gretta.
"And I used to live in a flat in New York; you can't imagine what a change this is!" said Happie cheerfully.
"I guess," said Gretta, looking at the tip of her brush as if hoping it might help her.
"Don't you get lonely here? I do, though there are so many of us," persisted Happie.